Page 59 of Heir of the Beast

Mort also seems to see them and jumps into a dead sprint, hammering the ground in mighty strides. I grab her mane and lean down low, my thighs holding on for dear life.

A part of my brain can’t believe Apollo is going to this great length to bring me back. Is there something I do not know? Maybe they think I carry valuable information back to my evil superiors.

But really, Mort should get a medal for this. Best agent ever.

“Faster, Mort!”

She takes us down a road that leads to what looks like a giant forest. My adrenaline is racing through my veins as we cover ground quickly.

I risk a glance back, my long hair temporarily blinding me, but I see dark riders following us.

I gasp at the sight.

The night appears ghostly, the rain and thunder creating an ominous scene.

As we near the forest’s edge, a low level of mist covers the ground that is highlighted by three giant moons. I have no time to marvel at how fantastical this all is because we now are engulfed in the dense forest.

It’s dark and scary. The towering trees loom over us as Mort tries to weave her way through without a head-on collision with a tree.

I scream as I am hit in the face with a wet branch, nearly knocking me off Mort. I regain control and crouch low, urging Mort on, praying my nose is not broken.

“I sure hope you know where you’re going!” My voice is most likely lost in the rain and wind.

I know Mort was talking to Pierce earlier, so maybe they have a plan.

I see something to my left and gasp—a dark Garthorn rider. “Mort! We have company!” Mort makes a sharp left athletically, jumping over an impressively large fallen tree.

I lean low, feeling airborne as Mort clears it with shocking skill. Mort lands and presses on, finding a wide path to accelerate her speed.

My triumph is short-lived as I see another dark rider to our right deep in the forest. This one is close and is making a beeline toward us.

I look to my left and start to panic when I spot the other Garthorn soldier we just ditched. We are going to be sandwiched!

“Mort!”

The rider to our left is right beside us on the narrow path, and I risk a glance at him. He is gruff and wearing Garthorn armor with a bow on his back.

I see him whip out his long sword, and I freeze, wondering wildly if this is the moment to scream, “~lifeline activate!”~

I brace myself for impact.

I can tell Mort sees the threat, and she aggressively moves to her right.

I only have seconds to move my leg and sit side-saddle before Mort crazily rams the rider. The impact makes me lose my unstable seating, and I fall.

By the grace of God, I manage to grab onto her mane, and I’m able to boost myself up on her back like a circus rider. I groan loudly and exhaust all my muscles to gain back position.

I am so thankful that Mort told me to pick being a master rider, or I would have already used all three of my lifelines in a matter of five minutes.

I glance back to see that the rider we slammed into is nowhere to be found.

Mort slows, breathing heavily.

The wind and rain whip me in the face as we stop in the middle of the path. Mort pounds the ground, and large puffs of air emit from her nose. She jolts me, and I think she wants me to get off, so I do.

My legs are wobbly, and my dress most likely weighs two-hundred tons from being soaked.

Mort materializes back into human form and is breathing so hard on the ground I’m actually concerned.

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